Tempted by Her Innocent Kiss(68)

                 “My name,” he said in a breathless pant. “Say my name.”

                 “Devon!”

                 She came apart in his arms. Around him. Underneath him. He was bathed in liquid heat and he’d never felt anything so damn good in his life.

                 “Ashley,” he whispered. “My Ashley. Mine.”

                 He unraveled at light speed, his release sharp, bewildering and beautiful. His hips were still convulsively moving against her body as he settled down over her, too exhausted and spent to remember his own name. The one he’d demanded she say just moments ago.

                 He became aware of gentle caresses. Her hands gently stroking over his back. He was probably crushing her but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He was inside her. Over her. Completely covering her. She was his.

                 He knew this moment was significant. Something had changed. But his mind was too numb to sort out the meaning. Never before had he been so undone after making love to a woman.

                 It was supremely satisfying and scary as hell.





                                      Sixteen

                Ashley surveyed the guests as they filtered into the upscale restaurant she’d rented out for the night and felt the ache inside her head bloom more rapidly. She was so nervous she wanted to puke. She wanted everything to be perfect and for things to go off without a hitch.

                 She’d spent the afternoon at Tabitha’s getting hair and makeup done. Her friends had been skeptical of the look she wanted but in the end they hadn’t argued and then told her how fabulous she looked.

                 Ashley wanted…sophisticated. Something that didn’t scream flighty, exuberant or impulsive. This was her night to prove to Devon that she was the consummate hostess and perfect complement to him.

                 Her dress was, as she’d been assured, the perfect little black dress. Ridiculous as it sounded, it was the first such dress that Ashley had owned. For Ashley, wearing black was the equivalent of going to a funeral. It made her feel subdued and swallowed up. Somber. She much preferred brighter, more cheerful colors.

                 As for her hair, she never paid much attention to it and wore it down more often than not, or she just flipped it up in a clip and went on her way.

                 But Tabitha had spent an hour fashioning an elegant knot, without a hair out of place. Pippa had grumbled that it made her look forty and not the young twenty-something she was.

                 Carly had applied light makeup using muted shades and Ashley wore pale lip gloss instead of her usual shiny pink. The perfect accompaniment to the dress and hair were the pearls her grandmother had given her before she passed away two years ago.

                 She wore a simple strand around her neck and a tiny cluster at her ears.

                 Ashley thought she looked perfect. She just hoped everyone else did as well and that she could pull off the evening with a smile.

                 Across the room, the jazz ensemble played. Waiters circled the room, offering hors d’oeuvres and a choice of white and red wines. Two bartenders manned the open bar and in addition to the appetizers offered by the waiters, there was an elegant buffet arranged by the far wall.

                 Lights were strung in the fake potted trees, making the room look festive and bright. Flickering candles illuminated centerpieces of fresh flowers on each table.